We Joined The Navy by John Winton

ashore to be done by a washer-woman. The washer-woman used to come off every Monday morning with the Admiral’s dhobeying. One Monday the boat didn’t turn up. So they sent a signal--’P.S.B. for admiral’s woman.’ When the Flag Jack saw it he didn’t half shave off. So they sent another signal. Reference my, then they give the date time group, please insert washer between admiral and woman.’
    The Chief Yeoman’s face gave no sign that he acknowledged or even noticed the laughter of the class. The Chief Yeoman had a complexion like shrivelled parchment. His nose was sharp and beaked and his eyes were narrow and keen. He looked like a disillusioned vulture. Long years of close contact with senior officers on the bridges of H.M. Ships and Vessels had embittered the Chief Yeoman to the point where, like Cassius, he mocked himself and scorned his spirit that he could be moved to laugh at anything. It was the Chief Yeoman’s considered opinion that if They paid more attention to signals and less to politicians the Navy would not be in the state it was.
     
    ‘The Navy!’ said the Chief Gunnery Instructor, in exclamation marks, ‘is not proud to have you! Don’t you go getting that idea in your little heads! You’re here under probation! You’re supposed to be the cream of England’s youth, and if you’re the cream all I say is God-Help-England! I do! Take-that-grin-off-of-your-silly-face! This morning, pay attention, we’re going to try and learn something which boy seamen learn with ease! So I expect it’ll take you lot a little time to get the hang of it! This morning we’re going to learn how to turn about! Detail for turning about! When turning about the cautionary order in your case ‘about’ and the hexecutive order in this case ‘turn’ are given on two right feet when you take a check pace to the old front with your left foot and turn round in three paces raising the knees and keeping your arms to your sides and stepping off with a full pace of your left foot and swinging the arms to the height of the shoulders! Watch me!’
    The Chief G.I. placed himself in front of the squad and gave himself the orders for turning about.
    ‘Squad! Squad ... by the right quick . . . march ! Squad will turn aye-bout! Move to the right in threes squad aye-bout . . . turn -check-one-two-three- off with the left foot! Now let’s see how you do it!’
    The Chief G.I. was a huge man, in stature and in voice. He was a renowned beer-drinker; a notice still hangs in a Sliema bar testifying to his ability to drink thirty-eight Hopleaf beers and walk back to his ship unaided. He watched the Beattys’ attempts to turn about with a disdainful smile, as a Norse King in Valhalla might have watched the antics of mortals below him. When the Beattys finally halted in front of him, breathless but conscious that they had done as well as ordinary mortals could, the Chief G.I. was ready with comment.
    ‘All I hope is that the Captain wasn’t watching that! He’s not strong, you know! I wouldn’t like to be the cause of him having a stroke and being brought to a bed of pain through watching you! I seen some squads! I thought I’d seen ‘em all! But you lot are worse than a man deserves! They’ve given me the cream that’s paying you a compliment! They’ve given me the cream of of England all right! All the clots!’
    Spink, always nervous when close to the Chief G.I. or to any authority, let out a high hysterical laugh.
    ‘What’s your name? Up the hill and back! Double march, you human gash-shoot!’
     
    The lectures by the Chief Petty Officers were only a small part of the syllabus. The major part was taught by The Bodger, the three divisional lieutenants and the College Instructor Officers. The instruction covered seamanship, navigation, engineering, communications, torpedoes and gunnery and was supported by the latest information from the Fleet. Several of the Beattys discovered that their Dartmouth notebooks